


Assumptions

by Wrtrs_Blck



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Canon is kissed good-bye, Crack, Crimes against fashion, M/M, misguided!Arthur, oblivious!Merlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-01
Updated: 2012-08-01
Packaged: 2017-11-11 04:54:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/474743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wrtrs_Blck/pseuds/Wrtrs_Blck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone assumes Merlin knows what is going on. He really, really doesn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta-ed or Brit-picked and I'm sorry for both. RL has a nasty habit of catching up and the fic-writing has suffered as a result. At least it's up and finished and not in my WIP folder!

Retrospectively Merlin still found it difficult to believe he’d served almost a year in Camelot before he known of Great Aunt Agatha. It was, he’d once explained to Arthur, like knowing a certain place only by moonlight and then sighting it at noon. Then, Arthur had replied with a rather pointed glare, it was like knowing Merlin before knowing of his magic.

The day had begun, in Merlin’s opinion, in a rather pedestrian way considering what fate had been about to foist on them. Merlin had been unwillingly woken at dawn by an unsympathetic Gaius. Having dressed, eyes still half closed, and stumbled to the kitchens to fetch Prince Not-So-Charming-in-the-Morning’s breakfast Merlin had made his perilous way up the far too many flights of stairs that led to Arthur’s chambers. There had awaited Merlin the delightful task of chivvying his highness into a waking state. Merlin had managed to dodge both the boots that were flung at him in this process and Arthur had been bathed, dressed, fed and tipped out the door to poke sharp things at his knights in nearly record time. 

Merlin hadn’t been there when the messenger arrived but he’d heard that Uther had turned pale. Upon finding that Great Aunt Agatha would very soon be arriving on Camelot’s doorstep a flurry of activity had broken out across the castle. Merlin had been conscripted into hanging dusty tapestries. As he looked at the unlikely proportioned grey unicorn poking a fleeing violet dragon in a vaguely suggestive way with its horn; Merlin wondered how Uther could think this would improve the castle. Not that, in Merlin’s admittedly biased opinion, it would be possible to make Camelot anything less than grand but the dodgy unicorn tapestry, to say nothing of the eagle and the eel one, were awfully good attempts.

Upon the sighting of Great Aunt Agatha’s carriage the entire royal family descended to front steps of Camelot. Merlin was not entirely certain why; as this was definitely not the standard protocol for visiting nobility.

“Lady Pendlesnoot likes being greeted when she arrives,” Gwen whispered to Merlin from where they stood behind Arthur, Morgana and Uther.

“So?” Merlin whispered back, “If Lord Hale had his way he’d walk around Camelot naked and you don’t see Uther letting that happen.”

Gwen shuddered. “Gods be grateful. But you have to understand, Merlin, Lady Pendlesnoot is King Uther and Prince Arthur’s only living family. She is given a certain amount of… leeway.”

“If you say so,” said Merlin doubtfully, not able to imagine an Uther who was flexible about anything. Let alone the whims of an elderly relation.

Arthur then glared at Merlin over his shoulder. The message was clear, if Arthur wasn’t allowed to chit chat then neither was Merlin. Merlin glared right back. If Arthur really was destined to be some great and powerful king, then Merlin really couldn’t wait for him to grow out of his misery loves company stage. Sadly, this did effectively put an end to Merlin’s conversation. In spite of the fact Arthur’s glare was clearly directed at Merlin even the possibility of royal ire had Gwen falling into blushing silence. As Arthur smirked and turned back to his father Merlin renewed his vow to find an invisible magical pinching spell. Gaius had steadfastly refused to help Merlin in this endeavour, something about karma and all things coming back three fold. Merlin thought this was a load of bollocks. Or that karma needed a bit of a hurry along where Arthur was concerned. Merlin didn’t realise it but he was about to get his wish.

An enormous pink and ivory carriage drawn by four dappled grey horses pulled up in Camelot’s courtyard. All eyes were on the carriage as footmen in powder blue livery hopped down gracefully and held the door open.

“Great Aunt Agatha,” said Uther stepping forwards and extending a hand.

A plump lavender covered arm emerged from the lacy pink drapes of the carriage. The plump pink hand attached to the arm took surprisingly firm hold of Uther’s and then a rotund woman concealed nearly entirely by lavender silk, yellow lace and green feathers levered herself out of the carriage.

“Uther Irving Percival Pendlesnoot Pendragon,” said Great Aunt Agatha cinching her arms around Uther’s neck and drawing him in for a bone crushing hug, “it has been too long.”

Uther emerged from the hug unscathed except for a few stray turquoise green feathers clinging determinedly to his person. Great Aunt Agatha had already moved on to the other members of the welcoming party.

“Is that my dearest Artie?” exclaimed Great Aunt Agatha. “And little Morgie?”

Merlin choked.

Hugs of similar strength were bestowed on Arthur and Morgana, who both emerged as Uther had done, a little dazed and slightly feathered.

‘Artie?’ Merlin mouthed to Gwen, ‘Little Morgie?’

‘Don’t laugh,’ Gwen mouthed back, ‘Bad things happen to people who laugh.’

As Merlin looked around he saw the entire Pendragon household had straight, if pained, looks on their faces.

“Your dogs, Lady Pendlesnoot,” one of the footmen handed a pair of small fluffy dogs out of the carriage.

Great Aunt Agatha deposited one into Arthur’s arms and the second into Morgana’s. “Precious and Posey. Be careful they may be a little excited from the ride.”

This proved an apt warning as the dog Arthur was holding, Precious Merlin later found out, was so excited he emptied his bladder down the front of Arthur’s favourite red shirt. The expression on Arthur’s face as it happened was certainly something to be savoured.

*

“Ah well, dogs will do as dogs will do,” said Great Aunt Agatha philosophically once she had been settled in the grandest of the castle’s guest bedrooms. “There is no need to fret, Artie, it’s not as though it was much of a loss. You need to be dressed in more striking colours anyway.”

“More striking than red?” asked Arthur glaring at the dogs.

“Exactly,” said Great Aunt Agatha seeming to have missed the sarcasm by a good two counties, “I’m glad you seem to have inherited some of the Pendlesnoot taste. Sadly it seems to have bypassed your father entirely. Though Uther I’m pleased to see you’ve hung the tapestries I sent you.”

She gestured to the leering satyr tapestry gracing the chamber wall. Merlin assumed it was by the same artist, and he used the term loosely, who had done the others. Surely there could not be two people able to produce such concentrated amounts of ugly.

Arthur wondered over to inspect the tapestry, not bothering to hide his grimace of distaste. “Your contributions to the castle are far too generous.”

Great Aunt Agatha gave a smile. Merlin was surprised to find himself familiar with that smile. It was eerie to see one of Arthur’s expressions in the face of a plump and elderly woman but, unless Merlin was much mistaken, it was the ‘you have mightily displeased me and I’m going to reward you with your worst nightmare and make it a gift you will have to thank me for’ smile. “Oh, Artie, there’s nothing too good for my only family. Particularly when I see so little of you.”

Great Aunt Agatha gave a mournful little sniff and Merlin watched amazed as the three least apologetic people he’d ever met seemed to shrink in on themselves in guilt.

“We’ve been meaning to visit,” said Morgana softly coming forward and putting an arm around Great Aunt Agatha’s shoulders.

“I have no doubt you have, Morgie,” replied Great Aunt Agatha drawing out a handkerchief and wiping the corner of one eye.

Arthur also came forward. “We are very glad you came.”

Merlin, who had witnessed Arthur torn between joy and panic when he first heard the news of relative’s impending arrival, knew that for the mixed truth it was. Watching Great Aunt Agatha cast a knowing look at Arthur; Merlin suddenly felt she had a pretty good idea of it too.

“Dearest Artie,” she said patting his cheek, “It matters not. The most important thing is that I am here now. And I come bearing gifts for my favourite Great Nephew.”

Merlin was surprised to see all the blood drain from Arthur’s face at those words.

“What?” croaked Arthur.

Uther and Morgana were struggling to hide matching smirks.

“Oh yes,” affirmed Great Aunt Agatha gesturing to the footmen struggling to haul five massive trunks through the door. “I brought a few little things for all my family.”

At this both Morgana and Uther’s smirks faded.

“Fernton will see the appropriate trunks are delivered to your rooms,” continued Great Aunt Agatha.

“An entire trunk?” asked Uther with what, in another man, Merlin might have termed resignation.

“Yes,” said Great Aunt Agatha and a steely tone crept into her voice. “After all, Utherkins, you were generous enough to give me that lovely, prosperous estate at the furthest edge of your kingdom. An entire trunk was the least I could do. Our dyers are some of the best in Albion. Such lovely bright colours.”

Uther winced.

His Great Aunt smiled thinly, “The clothes on the very top are the ones I thought should be worn tonight.”

“Tonight?” exclaimed Morgana but she recovered herself enough to add, “Surely you are tired from your journey and would like to rest tonight, Lady Pendlesnoot.”

“Not a shrinking violet and I’ve been away far too long if you’ve forgotten that,” said Great Aunt Agatha. “Also fie on this Lady Pendlesnoot business; it’s Great Aunt Agatha to you, Morgie, as it’s always been. You’d best get used to saying it. This will be a good long visit.” 

“Gods save us,” Uther muttered.

“What was that, Utherkins?” asked Great Aunt Agatha sweetly.

“Nothing at all, Great Aunt.”

*

“You’re having fun with this,” Arthur accused.

Merlin didn’t look away from straightening the fuchsia and lime green robes he’d just helped Arthur into. “Would I, sire?”

The glare Arthur was giving him said the crown prince rather thought Merlin would.

Merlin hadn’t been the Official Taker of Princely Abuse (aka Arthur’s manservant) for long before he discovered Arthur’s chambers reflected Arthur’s tastes. Dark wood, luxurious furs and liberal use of Pendragon red combined to create a masculine sanctuary where Arthur retreated from the world at large. Or, as Merlin termed it, hide from Uther and Morgana. Some people might have felt sorry for Arthur standing in the middle of his personal haven looking so out of place all the furniture seemed to lean away from him. That someone, however, would have to be someone other than Merlin; who had been the victim of the horribly feathered turban too often to feel anything other than quickly hidden glee at the sight of Arthur in his eyeball crawling, pink and green monstrosity.

“I hope you realise, Merlin, these robes,” Arthur raised his hands to smooth down the front of his robes but couldn’t bring himself to actually touch them, “were selected for me, at great expense, by Great Aunt Agatha. If I catch you laughing at my Great Aunt’s loving gift it will be to the stocks for you.”

The hope in Arthur’s tone as he uttered the last sentence was unmistakable.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, sire,” said Merlin in his best ‘no, not a magic user here’ voice.

And to be fair Merlin wouldn’t dream of laughing at the robes, which on their own were too much of an affront to good taste and the natural order of things to be funny. Arthur in the robes, on the other hand, well it would take more than a trip to the stocks to strip the joy of this sight from Merlin’s memory.

Arthur sensing something of this traitorous thought glared at Merlin once more for good measure.

*

That night Uther sent three servants, five courtiers and two knights to the dungeons before he gave up. As it turned out not even Uther Pendragon, committer of the greatest magical genocide the world had ever known, could make a yellow velvet doublet with horizontal pink satin strips intimidating.

Uther and Arthur sat at the high table exchanging matching looks of stoic misery over Great Aunt Agatha’s head. It was rare for father and son to be this united. Since Merlin had come to Camelot it had seemed mostly like Uther decided and Arthur, often against his own judgement, fell into line. Tonight it seemed like a genuine meeting of minds and, when Morgana at last swept in, a genuine meeting of extreme jealousy.

Morgana approached the high table and curtsied before she moved to take her seat. The soft rustling of her favourite sapphire gown echoed loud in the suddenly quiet hall.

“Morgana,” said Uther with an overly toothy smile, “I see you are not wearing Great Aunt Agatha’s gift to you.”

“Yes,” said Morgana opening her lovely blue eyes as wide as they would go, “I do apologise, Great Aunt, but while I was in my chambers there was an unfortunate accident.”

“Do tell,” said Arthur. Merlin could see he was grinding his teeth.

“It was my fault,” Gwen volunteered quietly. “I feel so terrible. Milady wanted to wear her white shift beneath the yellow and orange overdress you so kindly gave her.”

Merlin didn’t pretend to know anything about fashion but he’d never seen Morgana wear anything either yellow or orange.

“There was a small stain at the hem which hadn’t been noticed,” continued Morgana, “and so I sent Gwen downstairs to get some bleach.”

“The laundresses were doing the linen for dinner tonight when I came down. I didn’t wish to inconvenience them so I filled a bucket with water poured in some bleach while I was in the laundry. As I carried the bucket back into milady’s chamber I tripped,” Gwen was now looking properly anguished. “I am so deeply sorry Lady Pendlesnoot.”

“Nay,” said Morgana, “the fault was mine. I moved a footstool in Gwen’s absence and she couldn’t see properly carrying the bucket.”

“Am I to take it,” said Great Aunt Agatha who was looking vastly amused, “that when your maid tripped the contents of the bucket landed almost entirely in the open trunk.”

“Sadly, yes,” said Morgana looking heartbroken.

Arthur’s face was contorted in something perilously like a snarl.

“Morgana,” said Uther with barely restrained temper, “Great Aunt Agatha went to a considerable degree of trouble and if you think for one moment –”

Before Uther could volunteer the castle seamstresses to recreate the wardrobe Morgana and Gwen had just destroyed Great Aunt Agatha spoke up.

“It’s perfectly alright, dear,” she said leaning across Uther to pat Morgana’s hand. “Accidents do happen. And really it wasn’t your wardrobe I was worried about. You have written to me often enough of the balls in Camelot for me to know what an elegant young woman you are.”

“You are wonderfully understanding, Great Aunt Agatha,” said Morgana smiling in a way Merlin could only describe as smug.

Great Aunt Agatha continued, “It was more for Arthur and Uther’s sake I had my presents made up and naturally I didn’t want you to feel left out.”

“Oh, I don’t,” Morgana assured her.

As neither Morgana nor Great Aunt Agatha seemed inclined to discuss the matter further Uther then gave the signal for dinner to be served.

As the first course was served Merlin caught Gwen’s eye and mimed enthusiastic applause. Gwen grinned and dipped a curtsey. Seeing how unhappy Arthur looked Merlin almost wished he’d thought of it.

Then, as Merlin was clearing away the first course, Arthur leaned close to Merlin and whispered. “Morgana really has all the luck. Guinevere is by far your superior as a servant and has even contrived to make herself useful by accident. Why, for once, could not your known stupidity and clumsiness have worked for me?”

Merlin had then found he could quite easily bear Arthur’s misery. Enjoy it even. 

*

Great Aunt Agatha, Merlin found, was like a streak of improbably good luck. Just when you thought it couldn’t get any better, it did.

“Artie dearest,” cooed Great Aunt Agatha one morning as Arthur was leading practice with his knights. “You need to work on your left parry. I spent many years watching my Gilbert practice and he, if you remember was an excellent swordsman, so I know a weak left parry when I see one.”

Arthur slowly turned to look at his Great Aunt standing at the sidelines, resplendent in a gown of iron grey and canary yellow. “Thank you, Great Aunt Agatha. I’ll take that under consideration.”

“See that you do, Artie,” said Great Aunt Agatha, “I’m sure you’re very good, sweetness, but it never does to be over confident or to overlook your weaknesses. I remember when you were a very little boy, you were adorable Artie, if a little on the chubby side. We all warned you not to climb the kitchen trellis. But climb it you did and the whole thing came tumbling down. The most important thing was that you didn’t get hurt but it did teach you the necessity of listening to the judgement of others.”

Arthur’s smile hadn’t faltered but his grip on his sword was white knuckled.

“Then again,” Great Aunt Agatha gave her great nephew an appraising glance, “the incident should also have taught not to wear your pants too tight. Honestly Arthur do you want to split your britches straight down the centre again?”

By this point Merlin had stuffed the first two knuckles of his left hand into his mouth and was biting down hard. Sir Orn didn’t fair so well and a choked snickered escaped him.

Arthur maintained his smile until Great Aunt Agatha had left the training yard. Then he turned on his knights with a smile his manservant had grown to wary of. It was a testament to the fear instilled in the knights of Camelot that day no one but Merlin ever referred to Arthur as Prince Splitty Pants.

*

It had been three weeks since the advent of Great Aunt Agatha and the longest period without magical attack since Merlin had set foot in Camelot. Merlin was quietly convinced this was because the entire vengeful magical community had realised they couldn’t torture the Pendragon men half as well as Great Aunt Agatha. 

A sort of equilibrium established itself and all might have continued this way until the end of Great Aunt Agatha’s visit. As with most catastrophic events in Camelot, Merlin found himself at the heart of it.

Morgana, in an act of pity, had walked Great Aunt Agatha the length and breadth of Camelot’s markets. The old lady had tottered back into the castle and had taken straight to her bed. Consequently the royal family was enjoying a quiet supper together. The meal was winding down and both Merlin and Gwen had snuck a sip or two of the exceptionally fine wine. Sadly for Merlin a few sips of wine were all it took.

“Great Aunt Agatha,” Merlin muttered to himself, “G. A. A., gaa, gah.”

“What are you on about, Merlin?” whispered Gwen. “And lower your voice!”

“Well, it’s just… Have you noticed that whenever we catch Uther and Arthur running away from Great Aunt Agatha – oi, Gwen, watch the elbows – have you noticed they’re always saying something like ‘Gaa, not again,’ or ‘Gaa, where’s she coming from,’ or if she catches up to them before they notice just ‘Gaa,’ in a sort of high pitched kind of way?” Merlin failed to notice at this point that Gwen had fallen completely silent as had the rest of the room. “Do you think they’re doing it deliberately - you know Great Aunt Agatha, G. A. A., Gaa - or is it just coincidence?” 

Merlin looked up to see Gwen sidling away from him, looking somewhere between sympathetic and horror struck. A sort of quiet fell. Uther and Arthur were staring at Merlin with matching expressions of embarrassment fuelled fury, and when they did bookend expressions like that Merlin could clearly see the family resemblance. Morgana was hunched over her dinner plate shoulders shaking and when she raised her head briefly Merlin caught sight of tears of mirth streaming down her face.

“And when I said running away,” said Merlin’s mouth, once again engaging without his brain’s consent, “what I really meant was using a vast and superior strategic knowledge to escape dealing with unbeatable enemy. Not that I’m saying that either of you couldn’t beat her, she’s just a little old lady and you’re trained warriors, it’s just that you don’t seem to be able to beat her in the other sense of the word. You know without actually beating her, with sticks and the like. Not that I’m saying you couldn’t if you wanted to…”

Merlin trailed off. A certain level of incredulity had entered into both Uther and Arthur’s expressions. Like the time a sorcerer attacking Uther had accidentally magicked himself into a pig. A sort of how can something this stupid possibly exist kind of look.

“Do excuse me,” Morgana said standing abruptly and sending the feet of her wooden chair scraping over the stones, “Gwen.”

The guards standing by the door barely had time to get the door open as Morgana, Gwen fast on her heels, fled the room. The doors closed on the sound of near hysterical laughter. Leaving Merlin trapped with the last two people in the world he wanted to be alone with right at that moment.

“Um,” said Merlin and he didn’t think he needed to be the genius Gaius sometimes said he was to see where this was going, “I’m for the stocks, aren’t I?”

“Oh, yes,” said Uther.

*

“Arthur looking for you,” said Gaius as Merlin stumbled in after his second day in the stocks.

Merlin mumbled something that was muffled by his shirt. This was probably for the best Gaius decided as, from the little he could understand, it seemed Merlin had just suggested the heir to the throne engage in illict sex with a barnyard animal. The vegetable stained shirt hit the ground.

“They broke out the potatoes today, Gaius,” Merlin whined as he picked another shirt up off the floor, sniffed it and turned back to Gaius now in full rant. “The potatoes! They hurt! I know, I may never prove it but I know, the potatoes were provided under Arthur’s orders. Thanks to that right royal prat I’m going to be black and blue tomorrow. Oh, stop flapping your eyebrows at me, he is a prat. And the stable boy was there, you remember the one who tried to get me drunk last feast day? I can’t believe he thought that would work! I was born in the country, not stupid, despite what Prince Splitty Pants would have you think. Whatever it is, Gaius, it can wait till I’m finished. Well, the stable boy – Gary? Greg? – whoever he is, has a really good arm as it turns out.” 

A large gloved hand landed on Merlin’s bare shoulder. Merlin’s heart twisted in his chest as he recognised two things: firstly, it was indeed Prince Splitty Pant’s hand on Merlin’s shoulder and secondly, maybe Merlin was as stupid as stableboy thought because Merlin had said the whole thing with his back towards the wide open door.

“Um,” said Merlin as he turned to face Arthur. “Good afternoon, sire?”

“My father and I,” said Arthur baring an unfriendly amount of teeth, “after long discussion have decided what to do with you.”

“The stocks again?” guessed Merlin.

“Oh, no,” said Arthur.

*

“You are here to serve me?” asked Great Aunt Agatha sounding deeply suspicious. “You are Arthur’s personal manservant, are you not?”

“Yes,” Merlin said and the wilted a bit under her gaze, “milady.”

“What motivated, dearest Artie, to this unsolicited generosity?” asked Great Aunt Agatha with arsenic laced sweetness.

“His natural selflessness?” replied Merlin.

Great Aunt Agatha’s eyes narrowed.

Two hours later and Merlin was halfway through Precious and Posey’s third bath of the day, and for such little dogs they had surprisingly sharp teeth. In the little time Merlin had snatched to reflect on his answer, he was forced to admit he wouldn’t have believed him either.

*

“You made it,” said Great Aunt Agatha sounding surprised as she lifted the lid to check Merlin’s work. Steam wafted up from the tureen of piping hot chicken broth.

Merlin was bent nearly double, sweating and gasping for air. But he was triumphant. He’d just proven that a man could make it from the kitchen, across the Great Hall, up the main stair case, up the servants’ staircase and into the first guest chamber carrying a tureen of hot soup in less than two minutes. Admittedly there’d been a small amount of magical assistance involved but only in containing the soup. Merlin’s legs had sadly done the rest.

“Anything else, milady?” asked Merlin as he edged towards the door. 

For a moment he thought he’d make it.

“Why, yes, my little hawkling,” said Great Aunt Agatha and even though Merlin was almost too tired to move he still had trouble repressing a cringe, “I think I left my very favourite shawl at the jewel merchant’s stall earlier. Be a dear and fetch it for me?”

Struck nearly dumb with horror Merlin could only stare at her.

“The jewel merchant’s stall by the outer gate?” asked Merlin incredulously. “That’ll take me an hour!”

Great Aunt Agatha widened her eyes unconvincingly. “Is there some problem, my little hawkling?”

“The castle closes the portcullis in half an hour. I won’t make it back in time!” 

“But you’re so quick,” Great Aunt Agatha praised. “I have every faith in you. Off you go.”

Merlin’s legs were almost shaking with fatigue. They did not have another sprint in them. Even if Merlin’s legs had been up for it Merlin still wouldn’t have been able to make it back in time. Not with out a teleportation spell.

“Unless,” said Great Aunt Agatha slowly, “there was something else you need to do here? Perhaps something you need to tell me.”

Merlin’s disbelieving blue eyes locked with Lady Pendlesnoot’s grey ones. Great Aunt Agatha fluttered her eyelashes at him.

“My feet will be as the wind,” said Merlin as he turned to go.

At least, Merlin thought darkly, he now knew where the unadulterated evil in the Pendragon line had come from.

*

Having spent the night camped out in the stables of the Royal Rooster Merlin was feeling out of charity with the world. Merlin was tired, his back felt like a group of knights in full armour had been dancing on it and he was so hungry he could eat the ugly wall hangings. But, as Merlin attempted to brush the mildewing straw out of his hair, if he had to pick someone to pin his grievances on it would be Arthur. Gods only knew how many times Merlin had covered for Arthur. Yet Merlin had made one verbal slip up and Prince Heartless had thrown him to the wolves.

As Merlin stalked through the castle he decided enough was enough, he and Arthur needed to have a chat.

I will be calm, Merlin thought, I will be in control. I will not raise my voice or call him a hypocrite. I will make my case and not sprinkle dirt in his breakfast when we get back to normal.

In spite of Merlin’s inner peace his fist and Arthur’s door made violent contact.

The door opened. A fair faced youth with a mop of chestnut ringlets stuck his head out. Meadow green eyes widened with astonishment at the sight of Merlin.

“Who is it, Edgar?” asked Arthur.

“It’s Merlin, your highness,” said Edgar.

There were a few muffled thumps.

“Well by all means,” said Arthur, “let him in.”

Edgar stood aside to let Merlin through the door. Arthur was lounging in his favourite chair, the remains of his breakfast spread out in front of him. What drew Merlin’s attention was the second place set across from Arthur.

“Edgar and I were just breaking our fast,” said Arthur conversationally. Merlin glanced at his replacement and saw Edgar was blushing. “You look a right fright, Merlin. There’s still a bit left over. Help yourself.”

“I couldn’t,” said Merlin. “Not hungry.”

He didn’t say anything else.

“Right then,” said Arthur after a moment’s awkward silence. “Edgar, since we’re done, get these plates down to the kitchen.”

“Certainly sire,” said Edgar with a bow.

“Well?” said Arthur as the door swung shut.

“I have bathed her dogs. I have been up and down every stair case in this wretched castle at least three times a day. I have, and my eardrums may never recovered, listened to her sing. The final straw was spending last night stranded in lower Camelot looking for the ugliest shawl ever made.” Merlin brandished the apricot and red shawl trimmed with yellow feathers.

Arthur was not even attempting to hide his smile. “What do you expect me to do?”

“I need you,” said Merlin and frowned as Arthur started looking smug, “to save me from the ravening harpy masquerading as your relative.”

Arthur was now wearing a full blown smirk. “So you need me, eh, Merlin?” 

“It’s not like that,” said Merlin through gritted teeth, “I need you to get over yourself and stop being such a prat.”

Arthur’s eyes lost some of their twinkle and he slouched even lower in his chair. “I’m surprised you want to come back, Merlin, if you think I’m such a prat.”

“You are,” said Merlin with a shrug, “a slow flesh eating disease to your Great Aunt’s fatal plague. You, I can live with.”

“A flesh eating disease, am I?” Arthur got up from his chair and stalked around to stand before Merlin. “Well, look around you. You aren’t exactly a grand prize. Since you left I have had a spotlessly clean chamber, warm untouched meals and blessed silence. Why would I want to risk my Great Aunt’s displeasure to resume your dubious services any sooner than I have to?”

“Well then, sire, forget I was ever here,” said Merlin as he stepped closer and got right in Arthur’s face. “On second thought your Great Aunt is looking better and better.”

“Well then,” Arthur snarled looming even closer, “it seems that we understand each other.”

They paused so close their breath seemed to tangle together in the air. Merlin could see the individual flecks of grey in Arthur’s eyes and smell the fresh bite of his soap. Arthur’s hands curled themselves into the curve of Merlin’s biceps, like the Prince wanted to draw Merlin even closer.

Ha, shake the living daylights out of me more like, Merlin thought. 

There was a gasp. Edgar was standing in the doorway wide eyed.

Merlin pulled himself away from Arthur. 

“He’s all yours,” Merlin snapped as he stormed past Edgar. 

*

There past a few days of fraught silence between Arthur and Merlin. Arthur spent a lot of time walking about the castle one muscular princely arm about his new manservant’s shoulders. Merlin, when not running increasingly ridiculous errands for Great Aunt Agatha, spent a lot of feeding raw meat to Arthur’s pony sized dogs and looking up spells for painful muscle cramps and diarrhoea.

“I admire loyalty,” said Great Aunt Agatha as she, Merlin and the dogs navigated through the castle’s bustling courtyard. “It’s a too rare commodity today.”

Merlin nodded. He suspected Lady Pendlesnoot was feeling a little remorseful but like her great nephew she couldn’t just come out and say it.

“Arthur is special,” said Great Aunt Agatha. “He has the potential to be the best our line has ever produced. He’s changed for the better since I was last here and people whose opinions I value seem to think it’s largely because of you. They tell me great things about you. About the things you’ve done for him.”

Merlin said nothing and concentrated on preventing Precious and Posey from wrapping their leads around his ankles again.

Great Aunt Agatha raised a brow and remarked with something like approval, “Surprisingly discrete as well.”

“Great Aunt Agatha,” the subject of their conversation hailed from across the yard.

“Artie dearest,” said Great Aunt Agatha delighted as Arthur closed the distance and kissed her on the cheek. 

Arthur flashed his roguish smile. “You’re looking particularly radiant today, best of my relations.”

“You charmer,” said Lady Pendlesnoot smiling fondly.

“Are you enjoying your morning walk?” asked Arthur as he fell into step on his Great Aunt’s other side.

He flashed Merlin an edged smile. Merlin debated the merits of tripping and magically inflicting himself with a crippling injury. It would almost certainly be less painful then whatever the prince had planned. Arthur had a tongue like a viper. 

“It has been most interesting,” said Great Aunt Agatha. “Merlin has been an excellent guide.”

Arthur laughed, “I’m surprised you can say that with a straight face, Great Aunt Agatha, after suffering through Merlin’s god awful service.”

Merlin’s gaze fell to the walkway and remained there.

“Artie,” said Great Aunt Agatha reproachfully.

“But then Merlin does have his entertaining moments,” Arthur continued. “I’ll have to show you what he looks like in his servant livery before you go. If you thought there was nothing he could do to make those ridiculous ears look worse you’d be wrong.”

Merlin’s hands clenched about the leashes.

“Arthur!” snapped Lady Pendlesnoot.

“Merlin,” said Arthur ignoring his Great Aunt and speaking to Merlin directly.

“Sire,” replied Merlin and it sound, as Merlin had meant it to, like a euphemism for pig droppings.

“My father and I have discussed what to do about your situation,” said Arthur.

“My situation?” asked Merlin with resignation. Arthur wouldn’t go away until he’d delivered his next punch line.

Great Aunt Agatha was glancing back and forth between them as though she was attending a play where she didn’t quite understand the language.

“Well, Edgar is clearly the superior manservant,” Arthur pointed out, “but you have done some small service for the house of Pendragon. We’ve decided to reinstate the role of court jester, just for you.”

“You are too kind, my liege,” said Merlin thought the words nearly choked him. “I’m sure you and Edgar will be very happy together.”

Arthur scowled and stalked off.

Great Aunt Agatha stared stunned at Arthur’s retreating back. “Merlin?”

“Yes, Lady Pendlesnoot?”

“Merlin,” she repeated and sounding so like Arthur Merlin couldn’t pretend not to understand.

Merlin sighed, “He’s not happy with me.”

“Obviously,” said Great Aunt Agatha dryly.

“He wanted me to know he wasn’t happy with me,” Merlin elaborated.

“Oh,” said Great Aunt Agatha, “How very Uther of him! Does it happen often?”

“Occasionally,” said Merlin with a shrug. “He hadn’t done it for a while.”

Merlin had quietly hoped he’d outgrown it.

“It can’t be very healthy,” murmured Great Aunt Agatha.

Startled Merlin stared at her. Since Merlin had known the prince; Arthur’s reaction to any tender or volatile emotion seemed to land either firmly in the kingdom of overreaction or in the sea of denial. Arthur was many things (loyal, courageous, intelligent, eloquent, and generous) but Merlin wouldn’t call him emotionally healthy. Most of his pratliness, in Merlin’s opinion, stemmed from this problem.

Great Aunt Agatha turned sharp eyes on Merlin. “It must be hard to overlook sometimes.”

Merlin said with rueful fondness, “Arthur is worth forgiving.”

*

Only this time Arthur did not seem to want forgiveness. Merlin had expected a summons to Arthur’s chambers or for Arthur to make a seemingly incidental trip to Gaius’ rooms. But three days passed with none of the usual not-apologies being made.

Every time Merlin saw Arthur he was in the best of spirits, acting up with his knights and even worse Edgar was constantly with him. Favoured Edgar about whom the servants were beginning to whisper and who filled Merlin with such a gaping hate it was like being eaten up inside.

On the third night Great Aunt Agatha let him go early and Gwen dragged him into Morgana’s rooms. He’d been whisked across the castle and shoved into a chair before he could even ask what’s going on.

“You look shocking, Merlin,” said Morgana as she brought him a glass of wine.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad,” replied Merlin with a shaky approximation of a laugh.

“But it is,” said Gwen looking earnest and worried as she perched on the arm of his chair. “You looked grey all day.”

“What’s happened between you and Arthur?” Morgana asked.

“Me and Arthur?” said Merlin. “What makes you think it’s something between me and Arthur?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Morgana rolling her eyes. “It could be that you’re miserable and he’s suddenly reverted to how he was before you arrived in Camelot. Even Uther’s noticed. Or it could be the fact that Great Aunt Agatha told me.”

“Okay, fine,” Merlin said listlessly, “Arthur and I had a fight.”

“So fix it,” said Morgana gesturing impatiently as though the situation could be resolved as easily as the wave of a hand.

“I’ve tried,” said Merlin.

“Try harder,” snapped Morgana.

“Morgana,” said Gwen reproachfully laying a protective arm about Merlin shoulders.

“He’s got to fix this Gwen,” Morgana returned fiercely. “The stars will burn themselves to dust before Arthur gets his head out of his arse.”

Merlin laughed and slumped forward. “I can’t.”

“I’m sure you can,” said Gwen as she rubbed his back in soothing circles.

“No, I mean I already tried,” explained Merlin. “I went to see him this morning. He had Edgar turn me away.”

“Arthur had that obsequious, uppity, jumped up, little snot turn you away?” asked Morgana dangerously.

Merlin tried to summon the anger but just felt resigned. “It’s okay. It’s my own fault. I just wanted… presumed… oh, hell, I thought we were friends.”

“Oh, Merlin,” said Morgana as she threw her arms around him. “You weren’t wrong.”

The door was thrown open.

“Morgana! This is becoming intolerable -” Arthur’s unmistakable strident tones sounded strangled as he took in the sight before him.

Merlin knew he’d done nothing wrong. But, as Arthur’s baleful gaze fixed on him, sandwiched between Gwen and Morgana, Merlin found he felt rather guilty.

“You,” said Arthur menacingly.

“Arthur,” said Morgana eyes blazing as she marched up to the prince, “you are a cad.”

“Me?” said Arthur incensed.

“Gwen, get Merlin out of here,” ordered Morgana. “Arthur and I need to have a little chat.” 

*

At around midnight there was a soft knock on Merlin’s door. Merlin opened the door to find Arthur standing there, looking rather unsure of himself.

“Can I come in?” asked Arthur.

Wordlessly Merlin stood aside. Arthur stepped past him, wrinkled his nose at the piles of clothes littering the floor but didn’t speak.

“Well?” said Merlin at last.

“I owe you an apology,” said Arthur as he finally turned to face Merlin. “I have behaved poorly since you made it clear you did not want things to change between us. I am sorry, Merlin. I should not have taken my disappointment out on you. Had I taken the hint that night with Gaius we would have been spared this. Forgive me. I hope I have not damaged our friendship irreparably.”

The rush of relief was so profound Merlin almost couldn’t hear what Arthur was saying. It didn’t matter what the words were, Merlin thought, all that mattered was Arthur was here and he was saying them.

Arthur extended his hand. Merlin stepped past the outstretched hand, looped both his arms around the prince’s neck and drew him in. Arthur’s arms closed around Merlin almost convulsively, his hands fisting in the linen of Merlin’s nightshirt. Breath warmed Merlin’s neck and golden hair tickled the side of his face. Arthur sighed and all the tension drained out of his body.

“I was so worried,” Merlin whispered, “that things were going to be bad between us forever. I missed you.”

Arthur chuckled softly against the skin under Merlin’s ear, “How is it, Merlin, that even though you didn’t say anything I can still hear the ‘you prat’ you wanted to tack on the end?”

Merlin grinned widely, “It’s a gift.”

“If only you had more useful gifts,” said Arthur mockingly but as he looked at Merin his face tender, “like basic grooming.”

“Hey,” said Merlin, “I was sleeping.”

Blue eyes roamed up and down Merlin as though just noticing the state of him. Eyelids drooped and suddenly the open expression on the prince’s face turned pained and shuttered. Arthur stepped back abruptly. “You are wearing your nightshirt.”

Arthur seemed to expect a response to this observation.

“Yes?” said Merlin.

“I value your trust, Merlin,” said Arthur averting his gaze, “but do not make this unbearable for me. For the love of the Gods put some clothes on.” 

Arthur had never seemed much concerned with propriety but it was hardly the strangest thing he’d asked Merlin to do. Merlin hastily pulled on a pair of pants.

“I’d hate to make your life difficult,” muttered Merlin as he did up the laces of his britches. “So what time do you want me tomorrow?”

“What?” asked Arthur voice oddly high.

Merlin rolled his eyes. “The usual time for your wake up call?”

“Oh,” said Arthur, “I think it would be best if you attended Great Aunt Agatha for the remainder of her visit.”

“What?” Merlin felt his heart roll over. “Why?”

“To give us a chance to re-establish our equilibrium,” said Arthur, “and to work out what to do with Edgar.”

“Edgar?” asked Merlin. “What about Edgar?”

As far as Merlin was concerned Edgar could be booted back into the same hole of insignificance he’d crawled out from.

“Edgar,” said Arthur carefully, “has his uses. For the duties you are not… For the ones you find distasteful.”

“Cleaning you chamber pot?” asked Merlin bewildered.

Arthur’s face hardened. “Do not joke, Merlin.”

“I’m not joking,” said Merlin.

“It isn’t what I want either,” snapped Arthur, “but it is the way it will have to be. Good night, Merlin.”

Before Merlin could say another word Arthur was out the door and striding through Gaius room back towards the castle.


	2. Chapter 2

Morgana and Gwen pounced on Merlin as he took Precious and Posey for their morning walk. Gwen commandeered the leads and was strolling about the yards. With slight bitterness Merlin noticed the dogs weren’t attempting to urinate on her shoes.

“What happened between you and Arthur?” Morgana demanded.

“He apologised,” said Merlin and the memory warmed him.

Morgana smiled. “The age of miracles isn’t over. What else?”

“He said I’d be back to being his manservant as soon as Lady Pendlesnoot’s visit was over,” Merlin couldn’t quite hide his disappointment.

“That’s not so bad,” said Morgana patting his arm. “And Edgar?”

She said the name Edgar as though she really meant pond scum.

“Arthur said we’ll share duties,” said Merlin attempting to sound optimistic.

“What? Why on earth?” exclaimed Morgana. “Wait… which duties?”

“He didn’t say exactly,” Merlin admitted. “Just said something about needs and duties I found distasteful.”

Morgana stared at Merlin, “That’s what he said?”

Merlin nodded.

“Arthur wasn’t any clearer?” Morgana pressed.

Merlin shook his head.

Morgana favoured him with an assessing look. “And what do you think he meant?”

“Doing the laundry?” Merlin guessed. “Emptying the chamber pots?”

Merlin hoped Arthur had been talking about doing the laundry and emptying the chamber pots. If Edgar tried to usurp Merlin’s time with Arthur Merlin would magic his bollocks to Nothumbria.

Morgana pinched the bridge of her nose like she had a headache. “There are rivers of rock that aren’t as dense as you two.”

“Hey,” said Merlin.

“Not to worry, Merlin. I haven’t given up,” Morgana assured him.

“Given up on what?” asked Merlin bemused.

Morgana ignored him. “Gwen! We have work to do.”

Merlin watched as the two girls hurried away from him, dark heads bent close together as they conferred in emphatic whispers.

Well that was as clear as mud, Merlin thought. 

*

Merlin was taking super in the kitchens when Sir Kay stuck his head in the door.

“Merlin,” he said with great satisfaction and called over his shoulder, “I’ve found him men!”

Thirteen of Arthur’s knights tumbled through the kitchen door.

The head cook got a dangerous look on his pudgy face, “I ‘ope ya ain’t plan’n on stay’n.”

“Of course not, Rumpy,” said Sir Hectemere with his most charming smile. “We just thought we’d take the prince’s man for a drink in town.”

“But ‘e ain’t the prince’s man no more,” protested Rumpy.

Even the feared lord of the kitchen quailed as thirteen knightly glares were turned on him.

“I think you’ll find you are mistaken,” said Sir Kay softly and Rumpy nodded vigerously. “We’ll be off then.”

Before Merlin could object Sir Vane had him by one arm and Sir Gawain had him by the other and he was being frogmarched into the Royal Rooster. Two tables were drawn together, over the unattended complaints of the Roster’s proprietor, and Merlin was dumped into a seat.

“A round of ale,” said Sir Hectemere flicking a gold coin to the nearest serving girl.

All eyes turned to Merlin.

“I get the feeling,” said Merlin as he rubbed at his wrists, “there’s something you want to speak to me about.”

The knights traded glances and by a random exchange of blinks Sir Kay was appointed their spokesperson.

“It’s about Arthur,” said Sir Kay as their drinks were set down.

Merlin had managed to work that much out on his own.

“We feel,” Sir Kay continued, “that Arthur has fallen under an unsavoury influence.”

They looked at Merlin expectantly. Merlin looked back blankly.

“Lady Pendlesnoot?” Merlin guessed at last. 

Sir Oliver thumped his fists on the table with a thunderous scowl, “I will not hear you besmirching the good name of the kind and beauteous Lady Pendlesnoot!”

He trailed off red faced as the entire table stared at him in horror.

“Not Lady Pendlesnoot,” said Sir Kay looking as disturbed by Sir Oliver’s outburst as Merlin felt. “Edgar.”

“Edgar?” said Merlin.

“Edgar,” affirmed the knights as one.

“We understand Arthur may have pushed past the extent of your goodwill,” said Sir Kellot earnestly. “It is a lot to forgive.”

“Damnation it is,” agreed Sir Orn thumping the table.

The other knights nodded their agreement.

“But we’re hoping,” said Sir Kay, “that you will find it in you to overlook the… to overlook it. You and Arthur have both been very forgiving of each other in the past.”

“Sophia,” murmured Sir Dorl, “and Lancelot.”

“Exactly,” said Sir Kay. “We understand Arthur’s actions over Edgar may be more difficult to swallow but we have faith in you Merlin.”

“You’re the Prince’s man,” said Sir Finn and clapped Merlin on the back with a force that nearly drove Merlin through the wooden stool he was sitting on. “Just like us.”

Merlin smiled as he rubbed his shoulder. It was nice to have his loyalty to Arthur appreciated.

“I would,” he said to the knights, “I offered but Arthur said he thought it was best I stayed with Lady Pendlesnoot until her visit was over.”

“But you will be resuming your former… postion?” asked Sir Hectemere.

“Yes,” said Merlin.

A raucous cheer went up from the table. Sir Finn and Sir Nerving hammered their fists into Merlin shoulders in enthusiastic approval. Merlin held up as best he could. Arthur’s knights were good men but, much like the large loyal ferocious beasts Arthur bred in his dog kennels, they didn’t understand what was friendly play to them could have Merlin limping for days.

“That is very good of you, Merlin,” said Sir Kay. “Undoubtedly Arthur will be thoroughly sick of the snivelling worm by then.”

“Well, not exactly,” Merlin said and he felt his shoulders droop. “Arthur wants Edgar to stay on.”

There was a shocked silence.

“He has asked you to endure this?” exclaimed Sir Kay with disbelief.

Merlin nodded and took a long bitter drink from his tankard.

*

Merlin pushed open the door to Gaius’ quarters. Even the quiet squeak of the door hinges felt like the squeal of glass grinding together.

“How can I – oh, it’s you Merlin,” said Gaius surprised. ”I was not expecting you back until after the feast tonight.”

“Gaius,” said Merlin piteously, “if you have any mercy please either give me something to end this headache or put me out of my misery.”

Gaius pursed his lips in the way Merlin knew meant he was trying not to smile.

“I really shouldn’t,” Gaius said but he produced a beaker of pale grey sludge and decanted some into a goblet.

Merlin held his nose, raised the goblet to his lips and nearly wretched as the essence of puss filled bog monster slid over his tongue and down his throat.

“That was vile even by your standards,” said Merlin to his smirking mentor as he blinked back tears.

“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about,” replied Gaius.

“Sure,” Merlin grumbled but the headache was already beginning to recede. He hunched over the work bench and waited for the full effect to kick in.

Gaius frowned suddenly.

“You are here with Lady Pendlesnoot’s permission?” he asked.

Merlin had spilled Lady Pendlesnoot’s breakfast over her table, ripped the hem of her gown by treading on it, tripped over five pieces of furniture and nearly thrown up on Precious and Posey.

“Less permission, more express command,” said Merlin as rested his forehead against the cool wood.

A quiet half hour later, Merlin was feeling much better and the sound of the door crashing open, which would have brought Merlin to knees mere minutes before, only made him cringe.

“Gaius,” Arthur commanded, “Edgar needs your assistance.”

Arthur had one arm supporting his limping servant. One meadow green eye was mottled blue and swollen shut while Edgar’s tunic was soaked and his chestnut ringlets were frizzing as they dried. The vague smell of horse pee wafted gently from them.

It was a bit much for Merlin’s still fragile constitution. He clamped a hand over his nose and mouth and scuttled back.

“Your highness, what happened?” asked Gaius as he came forward.

“My knights were feeling playful this morning,” said Arthur ominously. “They’re running laps around Camelot to work off their high spirits.”

Merlin thought this was a tad rich coming from the man who, up until a few months ago, had thrown daggers at his servants. He was, of course, totally unbiased.

“Oh, my prince,” moaned Edgar as Gaius poked at his eye.

“Gently, Gaius,” Arthur admonished.

Merlin snorted. 

Edgar glared at Merlin and then wilted dramatically into Arthur’s arms. The Prince helped his moaning manservant into the cot Gaius used to treat his patients and turned glacial blue eyes on Merlin.

“A word outside Merlin,” he snapped.

“Of course, my prince,” said Merlin sweetly and followed Arthur out.

“Do you know what happened this morning?” Arthur asked Merlin once the door was closed behind them. “I’ll give you the highlights. My severely hung over knights turn up to practice, which isn’t exactly unusual, except I wasn’t invited. Then Finn drops his broadsword, sheathed thankfully, on Edgar’s foot.”

Arthur paused glaring at Merlin.

“Poor Edgar,” said Merlin dutifully.

“Yes, poor Edgar,” said Arthur grimly, “When Edgar was in the armoury cleaning my sword, Kellot ‘mistakenly’ dislodged the practice lances on top of him. Then Hectemere stepped into help and ‘carelessly’ managed to tromp on Edgar’s hand with one of the armour plated boats he calls feet. I should have realised what was going on then. Instead I asked Edgar to check my horse. As Edgar was walking to the stables Oliver, who apparently didn’t see Edgar coming, and ‘accidentally’ pushed him into a puddle of horse piss. Then when Edgar got up Kay ‘helpfully’ dumped him in the horse trough to wash off the muck.”

Again Arthur waited for Merlin’s response.

“That is a terrible run of luck,” said Merlin and almost felt sorry for Edgar. Until he remembered the sight of Edgar’s lithe arms curled around Arthur’s neck.

“Luck had nothing to do with it,” replied Arthur. “My knights were out drinking with you last night, weren’t they?”

“Yes,” replied Merlin slightly puzzled by the change in topic.

“You told them about Edgar staying on, didn’t you?” asked Arthur almost resigned. “They haven’t exactly warmed to Edgar but they’d tolerated him well enough until this morning. They haven’t given him a chance.”

Between the headache and hearing Arthur say Edgar’s name every second word Merlin’s patience was failing.

“You are going to get to the point eventually?” asked Merlin as he crossed his arms.

“The point is, Merlin, my knights, for some godforsaken reason, are rather fond of you,” Arthur pinned Merlin with a fearsome scowl. “They think we are… They assume Edgar has… They feel they are defending your interests by making Edgar’s life miserable!”

Merlin couldn’t exactly see how the knights had got it wrong. “Well, that’s just terribly inconsiderate of them.”

“Merlin,” Arthur growled.

“Well, what am I meant to do about it?” asked Merlin and glared at Arthur. “I certainly didn’t ask them to do it, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

“I am well aware,” Arthur bit out, “that you have no reason to feel jealous of Edgar.”

Arthur was wrong; Merlin was jealous. So jealous that his little green monster had found a little green monsteress and was in the process of having hundreds of little green babies. Not that Merlin was going to admit it.

“What do you want me to do then?” asked Merlin.

“You will explain to your champions,” Arthur nearly spat out the word, “that they are mistaken and tell them to back down and leave Edgar alone. There should be ample opportunity. Tomorrow I’m taking him away from Camelot for the day. To make up for today’s ‘accidents’. You have until the feast tomorrow to resolve this issue.”

The green monsters in Merlin’s belly uttered a battle cry but Merlin managed to roll his eyes and drawl an insolent, “As you wish, sire.” 

*

That night, over several rounds of drinks at the Royal Rooster, Merlin relayed Arthur’s demands.

“It didn't seem to help, did it?” said Sir Gawain apologetically.

Sir Kellot snorted, “The little weasel knows he’s onto a good thing. My Marian told me Prince Arthur ordered a bunch of new clothes for the simpering twot.”

Sir Dorl cracked his beefy knuckles ominously, “I don’t like that Edgar.”

“Nor I,” agreed Sir Hectemere.

Sir Kay raised his tankard, “A drink to those who do not like the weasel!”

They all drank, except for Sir Oliver who was already unconscious beneath the table. Sir Orn had kindly rolled him there when Sir Oliver had slid off his chair.

“I can’t believe it,” declared Sir Nerving drumming his fingers against the table. “I would not have thought our prince’s honour would have permitted any faithlessness. Let alone this sustained perfidy!”

“Here, here,” said Merlin and took another long draught of ale.

“What I can’t believe,” said Sir Vane and the entire table listened because Sir Vane didn’t mince his words, “is that, of all the catamites in Camelot he could be unfaithful with, Arthur chose to bugger that one.”

All Merlin’s blood turned to ice. Arthur was sleeping with Edgar.

“Especially given his previously superior taste,” said Sir Vane clapping Merlin on the shoulder.

Merlin’s back was already black and blue from last night’s shoulder poundings but he didn’t even feel it.

Arthur was sleeping with Edgar.

“I think I’m going to call it a night,” Merlin mumbled and staggered towards the door.

Arthur was sleeping with Edgar.

Merlin made his way back to his rooms but sleep did not come. He sat on the side of his bed, deep in thought, until dawn breached the sky of Camelot.

Arthur desired men but in more than a year of Merlin’s service – service which included bathing, dressing and undressing – Arthur had never even hinted he might desire Merlin. Arthur had been in Edgar’s care less than two weeks.

*

The next day saw Arthur and Edgar ride out of the castle keep together a basket and blanket strapped to the rump of Arthur’s horse. Merlin didn’t wish to speculate what they would use the blanket for. Or what they had already used Arthur’s rooms for.

Apparently he looked almost as bad as he felt. Great Aunt Agatha took one look at him and gave him the day off. Gwen and Morgana kept giving him hugs. Three of the kitchen maids snuck him sweetmeats. Gaius even cleaned Merlin’s room for him.

The latter Merlin regretted as during this well intentioned cleaning Gaius had found Merlin’s book bookmarked at the section on magically induced venereal diseases. The book had been immediately confiscated. 

Eventually Merlin wandered back to Great Aunt Agatha’s quarters, desperately in need of something to do.

Great Aunt Agatha was been alone, sitting in the chair by the fire. Precious and Posey were napping in her substantial lap.

“Merlin?” Great Aunt Agatha asked surprised. “I gave you the day off.”

“I need something to do,” Merlin answered. “Anything. A dash to the jewellers. A dog bath. Anything.”

Great Aunt Agatha eyed Merlin with calm consideration. “Sit down, Merlin.”

Merlin sat.

“I have been patient,” said Great Aunt Agatha, “but the time for keeping secrets is past. When I took tea with Morgana today, she was so distracted she could barely keep her attention with me for two sentences at a time. Arthur has wavered between rage and keening disappointment for the better part of the last fortnight and you, Merlin, are as glassy and hollow eyed as a man after an amputation. You will tell me what is going on.”

So Merlin did.


	3. Chapter 3

“- and then I asked if I was for the stocks again and he sent me to you,” said Merlin.

Eyeing his almost insensible audience Merlin asked, “You’re not going to send me to the stocks, are you?”

“Oh gracious me, no,” said Great Aunt Agatha as she chortled with laughter and dabbed at her eyes again. “My dear boy, I haven’t laughed this hard in ages.”

“That is a good thing right? I can never really tell with your family,” Merlin realised what he’d just said Merlin blushed vividly. “I didn’t mean that in a bad way!”

“Oh, you’re quite right,” said Great Aunt Agatha still chortling. “G. A. A., Gaa! Oh, I love it. Go on, that can’t be all of it.”

Merlin continued, “Then there was this incident with Arthur -”

*

“- and Arthur acted like I’d deliberately set out to hurt his precious Edgar,” said Merlin grumpily.

Great Aunt Agatha eyed Merlin with something like disbelief. “I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. My dear boy, have you never had a suitor?”

Merlin looked at her wide eyed, “How could you tell?”

“We’ll come back to that later,” Great Aunt Agatha assured him. “What else next dear?”

Merlin took a deep breath, “Well Edgar spent the rest of afternoon in Gaius’ work room making us fetch and carry for him -”

*

“- then Sir Vane said they were lovers,” said Merlin voice uneven in misery. “I had no idea Arthur even liked men. Arthur never even hinted… and then Edgar just arrives… and, I mean, what’s wrong with me?”

“So,” said Great Aunt Agatha shrewdly, “you would not object to being the object of Arthur’s affections?”

Merlin flushed scarlet and toyed with his neck scarf.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” muttered Great Aunt Agatha. “Honestly the whole thing has been conducted so ineptly.”

“I just don’t understand what’s happened,” Merlin admitted.

“That much is patently obvious,” said Great Aunt Agatha acerbically. Merlin’s face fell and she patted his hand. “Not to worry, dear. It’s not your fault. My darling Artie has been making assumptions. It is up to us to show him the error of his ways.”

“How are we going to do that?” Merlin asked.

“We,” said Great Aunt Agatha, “are going to the tailors.”

In Merlin’s mind visions of lime green and fushia servants’ livery a thousand times worse than the set Merlin already loathed sprang to life.

“You said you thought the GAA thing was funny!” exclaimed Merlin horrified.

Great Aunt Agatha got a devious, determined, Uther-esque glint in her eye. “Merlin, I promise I’m not doing this to punish you.”

*

Merlin really didn’t see who was being punished by his new clothes but, as Great Aunt Agatha had promised, it certainly wasn’t Merlin. Yes, the new leather britches were a bit snug but the tailor assured him they’d stretch with use.

At least the colours were nowhere near as eyebendingly obnoxious as Merlin feared. It had been a bit overwhelming at first; Merlin had never had owned so many clothes before. They were all new too. Most of his clothes in Ealdor had been hand me downs. The first new thing he’d ever owned had been the pair of boots Gaius had bought him when Merlin had first arrived in Camelot.

After much debate - well Merlin had debated and been mostly ignored - Great Aunt Agatha had settled upon two sets of black leather britches, one set in brown leather and one final pair, made of extremely clingy fabric, in a rather fetching shade of midnight blue. Then had come the jackets, Great Aunt Agatha had insisted they be made quite a bit shorter than the ones Merlin was used to, in red, blue and brown.

“You’d look sensational in green,” Great Aunt Agatha had muttered as the tailor had draped a bolt of green cloth over Merlin, “but there’s no sense fighting with your eyes. I know he likes them.”

“Who likes what?” asked Merlin confused.

“Oh nothing dear,” said Great Aunt Agatha as she’d gestured for the tailor to bring out another bolt. The next bold produced was a bold Pendragon red. Great Aunt Agatha had nearly purred. “Perfect.”

Merlin had had his doubts but Great Aunt Agatha had assured him that jackets that ended above the waist were much more fashionable than the ones Merlin was currently sporting. There was some truth in that, Merlin suspected, as the red jacket, when it was finished looked remarkably similar to Arthur’s favourite jacket.

Running to and from the tailors for the fittings, Great Aunt Agatha insisted the clothes be completed post haste, kept Merlin busy. Almost busy enough that he could disregard the sight of Edgar and Arthur, who were, it seemed to Merlin, always together.

Other than the whole clothing thing all Great Aunt Agatha expected Merlin to do was run the occasional errand and keep her company. They played card games together mostly and Merlin had learnt a thing or two about cheating from the shameless old lady.

The worst part about the serving Great Aunt Agatha, Merlin thought as he lay in bed at night, was how much he missed Arthur. Who, Merlin reflected with an empty sort of ache in his chest which was worse than either jealousy or wounded pride, didn’t seem to be missing Merlin at all.

*

It was a bit daunting, Merlin found, as he adjusted the sleeve of his new white linen shirts. To step outside dressed so finely felt almost wrong, like he wasn’t Merlin, peasant of Ealdor, anymore. But Great Aunt Agatha had been quite insistent. This was part of the plan.

What the plan was exactly, Merlin was still rather iffy. It was need to know only and Merlin apparently didn’t need to know.

“Morning Gaius,” said Merlin as he stepped out of his bedroom.

There was a perilous moment where Merlin’s feet nearly slid out from under him. The shiny new black boots, Merlin decided, needed their shiny black soles scratched pronto or he’d be on his backside soon enough.

Merlin plunked himself down on a bench, picked up Gaius’ quill sharpener and went to work.

“Merlin?” asked Gaius, and the lack of shouting over the inappropriate use of a writing instrument should have told Merlin something was up.

“Yeah Gaius,” Merlin looked up at his mentor whose eyebrows were nearly touching his hair line.

“Merlin, what are you wearing?” asked Gaius.

“My new clothes,” Merlin stood up and did a little spin. “What do you think?”

Gaius made a choking sound and covered his eyes. “They’re very fitted.”

“Lady Pendlesnoot says that’s all the rage,” said Merlin.

“That jacket looks remarkably like Arthur’s,” Gaius observed.

“That’s what I said,” exclaimed Merlin. “Lady Pendlesnoot said that it would make it more obvious I was Arthur’s. She thinks he’d like that.”

“Oh,” said Gaius, “does Arthur know about this?”

“Lady Pendlesnoot said he’d like it better if it was a surprise.”

“I see,” said Gaius and he walked over to one of the cluttered work benches and dug up a large wicker basket. “Merlin, before you go to Lady Pendlesnoot, please tell Uther I’ll be replenishing my herb supplies today and not to expect me back until tomorrow night.”

“I thought you and Geoffrey were going to update the herbal catalogue today,” said Merlin confused.

Gaius looked Merlin over another time and snorted, “Plans change.”

*

Uther threw open his chamber door and did a surprised double take at the sight of Merlin. 

“What…” Uther stopped and held up his hand. “No, I don’t want to know. Why are you here?”

“Gaius said to tell you he’ll be picking herbs until tomorrow evening.”

Uther snorted, “Coward.”

The door was then abruptly shut in Merlin’s face.

*

“Merlin,” Gwen hurried to catch up with him, “what are you wearing?”

Merlin was beginning to feel slightly paranoid, “Gaius asked me the same thing this morning. What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

“Nothing,” said Gwen, “You look nice, very nice. Not that you don’t normally look nice. I thought you looked nice the first time I saw you. It’s just now lots of people will think you look nice and it’s not really appropriate for the domestic staff to look as nice as you do now.”

Merlin really had no idea what most of that had meant, but that wasn’t unusual once Gwen got going.

“Er, thanks Gwen,” said Merlin, “I think. You don’t need to worry. Lady Pendlesnoot thinks it’s appropriate.”

Gwen, if anything, looked even more worried. “I’m just going to go and talk to Morgana.”

Merlin smiled and waved her off. Why Gwen had felt the need to announce that, Merlin didn’t quite understand. As far as he could tell Gwen spent most of every day talking to Morgana.

*

During Great Aunt Agatha’s visit Merlin had grown quite fond of her, meddling ways and all, but when the time came for her go he didn’t think he would miss either Precious or Posey. As soon as Merlin had brought them in from their morning walk both the little dogs had relieved themselves on Great Aunt Agatha’s freshly scrubbed floor. 

“Wretched little devil dogs,” muttered Merlin darkly as he cut across the courtyard carrying the scrubbing brushes he needed to clean up after them.

Sir Kay was leading the morning practice. They were practicing a movement Merlin recognised as the drill for a left handed parry. Movement slowed as Merlin walked past and Sir Orn gave a startled yelp as Sir Finn’s attacking thrust went oddly awry. Sir Vane sheathed his sword and started clapping. The others followed suit. Some started cheering.

“Not taking it lying down, are we Merlin?” called out Sir Hectemere appreciatively over the roar of knightly approval.

Merlin waved back unsure why a set of scrubbing brushes was causing so much enthusiasm.

*

“Great Aunt Agatha,” said Arthur as he slammed the door to Lady Pendlesnoot’s rooms open, “what do you think you are doing? This is completely inappropriate – Merlin!”

Merlin looked up from where he was and saw Morgana and Gwen trailing in behind Arthur. Gwen was still looking worried but Morgana seemed oddly gleeful.

“Merlin,” said Arthur sounding dangerous, “what do you think you are doing?”

Merlin thought it was rather obvious what he was doing. He was on his hands and knees scrubbing clean Precious and Posey latest indoor accident.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Merlin asked waggling the scrubbing brush in Arthur’s direction. “I’m cleaning.”

“It looks quite different from where I’m standing,” said Arthur darkly.

Arthur was glaring at Great Aunt Agatha who was sitting on the settee a few feet behind Merlin and looking oddly distracted.

“I was wondering, Artie,” said Great Aunt Agatha, “whether I might take Merlin home with me at the end of my visit. He’s such a delightful young man.”

That was the first Merlin had heard of that idea. Horrifying futures of himself as the official Pendlesnoot dog walker flashed through Merlin’s mind.

“Lady Pendlesnoot,” said Merlin getting to his feet, “I’m flattered but –”

“Merlin, darling, how many times must I tell you to call me Aggie?” said Great Aunt Agatha fluttering her eyelids in a way that would have been ridiculous even on much younger woman.

“Aggie?” Arthur snarled turning on Merlin, “I can’t leave you unsupervised for one week, can I? It’s bad enough when I have to worry about the stable boys – Garret, by the way, will not be troubling you anymore – but, honestly Merlin, my elderly relations as well?”

It was then Arthur’s eyes performed the now familiar double take. Something hot and not entirely pleasant settled in the prince’s eyes.

“Merlin. What are you wearing?” Arthur’s voice made Merlin’s skin shiver. The golden haired prince prowled over to run hands down the arms of Merlin’s jacket. Arthur continued in that deep and dreamy voice, “I’d ask if it was mine but…”

Arthur was wearing his and Merlin noted a little wildly that, yes, the jackets were very similar. Arthur hadn’t stopped rubbing Merlin’s arms and it was becoming difficult to think.

“Arthur,” said Merlin a little helplessly. 

That pulled Arthur up. For a moment he seemed torn but then his lips curled into a familiar defiant smirk.

“You wretched, conniving old harridan, I’ll deal with you later,” said Arthur staring at his Great Aunt even as he drew Merlin closer. 

With that Arthur took steely hold of Merlin’s wrist and yanked him out of the room.

* 

The walk was fast and silent and the grip on Merlin’s wrist took on a bone bruising intensity. Arthur pulled open the door to his rooms, almost threw Merlin inside, and slammed the door behind them. In the next moment Arthur’s hands were clenched in Merlin’s jacket as the prince crowded his manservant against the solid oak door. Turbulent blue eyes filled Merlin’s vision and the magnetic heat of Arthur’s presence took on an almost tangible force.

“Merlin,” growled Arthur, “you try my patience. You cannot spurn my attentions and then parade around like an evening sweetmeat.”

“An evening sweetmeat?” asked Merlin incredulously. “Your Great Aunt was the one who dressed me like this!”

“I know,” replied Arthur drawing one hand down the suede of jacket to caress the supple leather covering Merlin’s thigh, “I don’t know whether to thank her or turn her out of Camelot.”

“And what do you mean spurned your attentions?” asked Merlin frowning suddenly.

“Oh, don’t play,” said Arthur with a bitter laugh. “Rubbing Lancelot, and even Guinevere sometimes, in my face. You have talked openly in my presence of other suitors you have turned down. It was gracious – tactful even – how you made clear while my friendship was welcome, my attentions never would be.”

“Your attentions?” Merlin exclaimed. “You’ve never even hinted you might want me!”

“Hinted?” said Arthur and his voice rose to an unattractive high. “The entire castle assumes we’ve been sleeping together for months. Every noble, peasant and guttersnipe in Camelot knows how I feel about you.” 

“Well I didn’t, you stupid prat!” retorted Merlin and brought both his hands to Arthur’s face, dragging him in for a kiss.

For a moment it was horribly awkward. Arthur was stiff and unresponsive, their noses seemed determined to keep their lips from contact and Merlin, who hadn’t had any wanted suitors before now, really had no idea how to kiss. Then with a sigh and groan Arthur wrapped a hand around the back of Merlin’s neck and showed him how it was done.

“Oh Gods,” said Merlin, deeply reverent, when Arthur drew back to let him breathe. 

Arthur chuckle and kissed him again, hands sliding Merlin’s jacket from his shoulders. Slowly Merlin found himself being drawn towards Arthur’s bed. By the time Arthur imperiously tossed him on to the bed Merlin had lost his shirt and found the laces to his britches undone. There was a brief, undignified struggle with Merlin’s boots which Arthur unceremoniously tossed across the room.

“Finally,” said Arthur, hot and tender, as he paused with his fingers curled in the waistband of Merlin’s trousers.

“If you’d just said something,” said Merlin with something perilously close to a whimper, “we could have been here much sooner.”

Arthur knew Merlin far too well, rolled his eyes and smirked. “Do shut up, Merlin.”

Then he performed his own brand of magic, stripping Merlin naked with one smooth practiced motion.

“Guh,” said Merlin.

If possible, Arthur’s smirk grew even wider. “I’ll be with you in a moment.”

Merlin watched eagerly as more and more golden flesh was revealed. Gloriously naked and with a promising glint in his eyes, Arthur advanced upon the bed.

“No,” Edgar’s voice was heard and the door to the room was flung open. He froze on the threshold, looking every inch the wounded and betrayed lover.

Arthur fixed Merlin with his best disapproving glare. “You didn’t lock the door.”

“Me?” said Merlin scrambling for the bedclothes. “This was your plan.”

“You might not have left the whole thing to me,” said Arthur with an exaggerated eye roll, “as usual.”

Merlin spluttered indignantly as Arthur filched the bed sheets Merlin was trying to preserve his modesty with and threw them to the ground.

“Much better,” said Arthur appreciatively. “Get out, Edgar.”

“My prince,” said Edgar as he moved into the room and shut the door behind him, “you cannot do this.”

Arthur naked and unashamed turned to face Edgar. “You seem to be under the mistaken impression you are welcome here.”

Green eyes flickered nervously between Arthur and Merlin. Edgar wet his lips and continued, “I have come, my prince, to save you from making a grave mistake.”

“Oh?” Arthur crossed his arms and leaned against a bedpost with dangerous nonchalance. “To my eyes there is a person here close to making a grave mistake but I am not he.”

Edgar looked mournfully at Arthur beneath lowered lashes, “After all we have shared you would treat my concern so lightly? My prince, Merlin has already toyed with your heart. I could not bear it if his faithlessness broke that noble organ.”

“Hey!” said Merlin incensed. Firstly Merlin had never played with Arthur’s heart – well, never knowingly – and, secondly, the noble organ Edgar was currently eyeing was not Arthur’s heart.

“I’ll deal with this Merlin,” said Arthur authoritatively. “Edgar, your concern is touching but unwarranted. Merlin is far too simple to play any kind of game. The situation was my own fault for assuming he had any romantic understanding or delicacy.”

“Uncalled for,” muttered Merlin.

Arthur continued blithely. “I also find it surprising you’d be concerned by faithlessness. Considering in the last fortnight, by my count, you have lain with Kate from the laundry, John from the kitchens, Harold the farrier, Thom the furrier, Sir Finn and, of course, me.”

For each name Arthur ticked off Edgar turned a shade paler. Merlin took some satisfaction in Edgar’s obvious discomfort but mostly he just wanted the whole thing over. The nudity was clearly not bothering Arthur, he of the healthy circulation and the enormous – sadly justified – ego. The same could not be said for his manservant. Merlin wanted Edgar gone in the next five seconds or failing that a fur blanket to take off the chill.

“My prince, I am ashamed,” whispered Edgar. “My needs are greater than I led you to believe. Knowing of the strain you have been enduring I did not wish to burden you. But you must know in my heart there has been only you.”

Merlin snorted with disbelief. “Seriously? That’s what you’re leading with?”

“What would you know?” said Edgar glaring at Merlin with unrestrained vitriol.

With a cattiness that surprised him, Merlin replied. “No where near as much as you, obviously. But I’ve always thought that if your heart does belong to one person alone, you don’t generally bend over for anyone who drops their hanky at you.”

Edgar turned an unflattering mottled purple. Ha, thought Merlin, not so pretty now! Then he caught Arthur’s gaze.

“When your heart belongs to one person alone?” said Arthur a small tender smile played about his lips. “Merlin, you girl.”

A slow revealing flush worked its way across Merlin’s cheekbones to the tips of his ears.

“Merlin,” said Arthur in that knowing way of his.

Merlin blushed even harder. Arthur laughed delightedly.

“Oh, shut up,” Merlin mumbled. “It wasn’t like everyone didn’t know how I felt too.”

“Merlin,” said Arthur again sounding soft and joyous.

“No,” said Edgar voice squeaky and distressed, “I won’t let this happen.”

Arms outstretched Edgar flung himself at Arthur. With a puff and a squawk a mottled brown chicken beat its wings against Arthur’s broad chest. There was a moment of frozen horrified disbelief, punctuated with hysterical squawking. Arthur turned incredulous blue eyes on Merlin who was lying on the bed with an arm outstretched.

“Um,” said Merlin and he tucked the guilty hand behind his back in the vain hope that removing the sight of it would make Arthur somehow spontaneously forget.

“Merlin,” said Arthur between gritted teeth, a deplorable habit he’d claimed to Merlin he had only developed since he’d been saddled with the world’s greatest idiot as a servant, “is there something you’ve been neglecting to tell me?”

“Um,” said Merlin again and looked anywhere but at Arthur.

Arthur threw up his hands. “At this point I don’t care.”

Grabbing Edgar by his scrawny, feathery neck Arthur stalked across the room, wrenched open the cupboard and shoved the chicken in. A chair back was shoved unceremoniously beneath the cupboard handles and Arthur was again looming over a startled Merlin.

“Arthur,” said Merlin scooting backwards vaguely alarmed.

One large hand clamped around Merlin’s ankle and dragged him across the bed. Arthur settled between Merlin’s legs, using his weight and strength to trap him.

“No,” said Arthur fierce and furious, “you will not run from me.”

“I wasn’t,” Merlin protested and it was mostly true.

Arthur looked into Merlin’s eyes and seemed to read all his hopes and fears. Suddenly he gentled, relaxing the strong grip and sliding his arms around Merlin. As though Merlin was something fine to be held and cherished.

Arthur dropped his head to Merlin’s shoulder. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

“I wanted to,” replied Merlin as he held Arthur to him, “but it wasn’t fair.”

“No, it certainly wasn’t,” retorted Arthur but then he paused and lifted his head to examine Merlin’s face with narrowed eyes. “Wait. What do you mean?”

Of its own volition one of Merlin’s hands gently brushed back Arthur’s hair.

“You are already caught in the middle,” said Merlin holding Arthur’s gaze. “I couldn’t make it worse.”

Arthur looked touched for a moment and then snorted. “Merlin, you make my life amusing, difficult, surprising, complicated and more than a little strange. The only way you could make it worse is by not being in it.”

“Arthur,” said Merlin and he felt perilously close to something like tears.

“Or,” said Arthur glaring down at Merlin, “by keeping important things from me that I, as your master, prince and friend, am entitled to know. Magical gifts and your hidden, burning, pining passion for me fall into this category.”

Merlin tried to get an arm free so he could punch his master, prince and friend in the gut but Arthur seemed to have expected this and kept Merlin’s arms pinned.

“Prat,” grumbled Merlin.

“Idiot,” replied Arthur fondly. “Is there anything else you feel you ought to tell me?”

Merlin could only think of one thing. “I’m less experienced than Edgar.”

“Well I don’t expect you to have as much experience as Edgar,” replied Arthur with an eye roll. “I don’t expect the stable tom cat to have as much experience as Edgar. Why would you… Oh.”

“Yes,” said Merlin a tad pettishly. “Oh.”

Certain bits of Arthur got very interested. “Well, we’ll have to do something about that.”

“Don’t put yourself out,” Merlin snapped as he tried to wriggle away.

“Merlin,” said Arthur patiently, “I wouldn’t care if you’d had a thousand lovers. That you haven’t had any is an unexpected gift.”

Arthur kissed Merlin and Merlin felt his bones and irritation turn warm and soft. They lay together kissing for a small eternity. Then something settled beneath Merlin’s skin, a need that set him moving. Arthur groaned and moved with him, whispering hotly into Merlin’s ear, between teasing bites, what they could do together. That on its own would have been enough but Merlin knew what he wanted.

It wasn’t easy or perfect or painless, Arthur’s directions became quite incoherent at one point and Merlin nearly ended things very early when he’d almost kneed Arthur in a sensitive and essential place. But when Merlin was underneath Arthur, spilt open and more intimately connected than they had ever been, he knew he would have given all that came before and more. Afterwards when they lay together, Arthur pressing open mouthed possessive kisses to the skin of Merlin’s shoulder, Merlin knew he would have given anything. Even things that were not his to give.

Merlin hadn’t realised he’d spoken aloud until Arthur, with a smile and another kiss, said, “Me too.”

“My prince,” said Merlin only half teasing and then seriously, “my future king.”

Of all things said and done it was this that made Arthur blush and look away. “Merlin, I –”

From across the room there came a low pathetic squawk.

The open vulnerability on Arthur’s face faded and he said, “What are we going to do about that?”

Merlin scowled and thought longingly about chicken soup for dinner.


End file.
